Through the Years
by Elliot and Cooper
Summary: As the Gates walls begin to break down, people who never should have met, meet. Worlds that should have been distant are now within reach, and the flow of time is not what it use to be. A crossover between Star trek: 2009  and the Conqueror of Shambala.
1. Prologue

A/N: I do not own

A harsh heat beat down upon Alfons; breaths that had once been hard to take were reaching impossible. He gasped desperately trying to keep enough oxygen in his blood to function he couldn't break down now. All around him was red, he was really starting to hate that color, all it reminded him was of death. This strange place, the sky, the now setting pair of suns, Alfons' train of thought stopped for a second, suns? Why were there two of them? - there should only be one, last time he checked. Shit he had better not be seeing double; fainting would not be a good idea.

Alfons turned looking over his shoulder. Nope still one burning red remains of a two-seater rocket. It at least had the decency to wait until Alfons had dragged out Edward out and away before bursting in to flames; it hadn't been the smoothest of landings. Alfons looked over his other shoulder at Edward, nope, still only one unconscious young man covered in his own red blood. Alfons had torn up his coat in an attempt to stop the bleeding - the bandages were kind of working.

If he survived and Edward didn't die either he was going to kill him, hell even if they both died he was still going to kill Edward. Okay maybe it wasn't all Edward's fault, but he was still unconscious and not helping Alfons fight off—

**CRUNCH pop SLURK CRACK pop**

At the sickening noises Alfons looked down, ah yes one of the reasons Edward was dead twice over. A swarm of red, hairless and hungry looking invertebrates were gathering around the base of the rock out cropping the rocket had just barely missed when… well Alfons didn't really know what happened - when they arrived, he guessed.

**SLURK COROK**

Alfons swung the piece of metal he was holding, it was one of the cross pieces from the rockets wings. A satisfying scrunch and the feeling of exoskeleton shattering vibrated up his arm. He smiled grimly and swung again. The metal carved its way through the front line of creatures, shattering their outer armor and slicing through their pulsing yellow innards. Yellow. That was a nice color, it reminded him of scrambled eggs and bananas, god he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten a banana- once the war had started fresh fruit was nearly impossible to find. There was also his favorite flower, they were yellow too, he could never remember the proper name, and Edward had always called them by their Latin tag. Edward, he had always loved Edward's eyes, they were the first things that he had noticed when they had first met. The fierce gold eyes that had the look of somebody who could take care of himself and everybody he cared about, and maybe the look of somebody who had seen too much.

If only Ed would open those eyes now, Alfons need him. He swung the pipe once again making contact and sending a few of the life forms flying. Switching hands he thwacked down hard on one that had gotten ahead of the rest and a little too close for comfort.

He froze as a feeling he knew all to well began clawing at his chest, not now he had to keep Edward safe. Alfons' throat burned, desperately he tried to hold back the hacking cough and focus on the swarming red creatures. The metal clattered as Alfons brought he shaking hands to his mouth, covering his already blood stained hands with even more crimson. The coughing wouldn't stop; he backed up away from the rock edge. He swayed, head now spinning.

A noise filled his pounding head, a sort of keening. Was there something coming? - a slow flash of light out of the corner of his eye. He spun, stumbling slightly - where was Edward,? - dread filled him - what the hell was going on?- a tingling feeling washed over his body. Swirling gold and blue lights seemed to surround him almost blinding him, and then just white.

* * *

Did he just die? No, maybe not, heaven shouldn't be this noisy, there were voices crowding him. Was that English? Alfons couldn't process any of it. Where was Ed? There! He tried to take a step forward, why has everything moving towards him - the ground shouldn't be that close. He felt something around him, arms?

"Out of the way dammit!" a voice above him.

The taste of blood filled his mouth, his chest convulsed with the effort of coughing, black spots were filling his vision, getting bigger and bigger until they muted out everything. Fear for himself and for Edward closed over him as conscious slipped from him leaving nothing but darkness.

**A/N: Not entirely sure when the next chapter will be up or how long it will be; but it will be up in the near future (unless I finish my time machine then expect it in the past). I hoped you enjoyed it, and if you're confused I'm sorry but this is the prologue things will get explained later.**  
** -Elliot **


	2. Time Ripple

"Captains log star date 5682.8: We are currently in orbit around Hive89 in the Aoquma system. The mission is that of scientific importance; this is a routine check of atmosphere and mineral content. Both are similar to earth but no life forms of intelligence have been found. This will be our third and final orbit."

With a quiet click, Jim Kirk switched off the microphone. He looked around him, and frowned. If he had been anywhere but the bridge it would have been a fully fledged pout. Scientific missions were important; he _knew_ that. This planet in particular had the potential to hold thousands of greenhouses, medicine (and money) for millions, stuff that would save lives, well into the far future.

But it was all so boring. Yes, his crew needed the break from fighting the hazards of space. And _yes_ everything about the assignment was completely necessary. But he needed action, movement, _something_; sitting still and waiting was not his forte. There was always that feeling or need of having to do something, there was always something else uncompleted. That annoying little tick that lived in the back of his mind seemed to poke every time he tried to relax.

A young male science officer approached his chair; he was chipper, wearing his blue uniform with pride. He appeared to be incredibly enthusiastic about the whole dull affair. Jim sighed. Well, at least someone was.

"Sir, I've just gotten the reports back on the list of life forms, although there aren't any creatures with obvious intelligence, there doesn't seem to any that would pose too great of a danger."

Kirk raised an eyebrow. "Too great of a danger?"

"Well sir there is an abundance of meat eating, possibly cannibalistic invertebrates but the possibility of them being able to present a problem is very low."

"Fair enough, I still want a full report on any potential danger, dismissed."

"Yes, sir" The man turned back and went to his station, gazing avidly at the instruments and jotting down notes. Jim nearly groaned. The instruments kept their own records! The acute keenness which radiated off the boy made Jim itch.

"Mr. Spock, what's your estimation for this final orbit?" Jim asked turning to face the Vulcan science officer. He wanted to get off the bridge, maybe bother Bones or spar with someone. Sitting here was hell.

"Well Captain while we are mapping the complex regions of mountain we will be proceeding at 76% of our former speed. You may expect it to be at least two hours longer in duration than previous orbits."

Two more hours? The only reason he was still on the bridge was Starfleet regulations required the captain to oversee any potentially serviceable planets. As soon as this was over he was definitely going bug Bones.

One of Spock's instruments let a shrill warning Kreeeeeeee.

"Captain, there appears to-"

Something rippled over them, making the bridge seem to warp and shimmer instantaneously. It snatched Jim's breath away, making his skin shiver and crawl. The Enterprise seemed to convulse around them. The lights flickered twice and went out. All systems let out a drawn out sigh as they seemed to died; the bridge was silent.

"Uhura, contact engineering find out what the hell is going on. Sanrel I want a full system check. Tell me what's down, Mr. Sulu can you give me anything on our position?"

The captain's urgent orders sent the crew in to motion. Clattering and clicking filled the room as people tried to feel their way around in the pitch black. Sharp snaps sounded, somebody had located the emergence phosphorescence supply, a glaucous light filled the bridge.

Uhura turned. "Captain I can't get through, nothings working"

"Sanrel?"

"She's right sir all systems seem to be down"

"Get down to the engineering deck find out what the problem is and report back."

"Yes sir."

"Mr. Spock, do you have anything?"

The Vulcan shook his head. But the eager young officer in blue stepped forward and piped. "Captain, I have something. Just before all systems failed, there was an anomaly on the readouts. It appeared to be a massive energy spike. I've never seen anything like it. Literally off the scale."

Jim turned to Spock. "Explanation."

"I have none, there was nothing on my instruments that could have produced it."

"Sir?" It was Sanrel " The lift refuses to work. I can't even move the door!"

"Alright, see if you can get anything to work" Jim didn't let any of the anxiety he felt creep in to his voice,. If the ship was really dead and they were just drifting through space, he didn't want to even think of the consequences. Whoops. Too late.

"Mr. Sulu do you have anything on what we were looking at before?"

"Nothing Captain, just the terrain change we were expecting."

"Captain," Spock spoke up "We can assume that the energy abnormally either drained all power or caused all functions on the ship to short out completely-" Once again Jim felt a tingle across his skin, _through_ his gut, making him shudder, stomach twisting and scalp prickling. The already dim bridge seemed to flicker. Everyone collectively held their breath, fearing the worst.

A moment of blackness and the back-up lights winked on. Beneath their feet the ship shivered to life, and with a distant roar, they all felt the slight but comforting vibration of the engines, purring along smoothly. A few seconds later the real lights came on; it was almost like nothing had ever happened. The entire crew breathed out.

Jim swiveled his chair forward.

"I want a full system report, what is and isn't working." People jumped too it.

The lift doors seemed to slam open; they were automated but an irate Dr. Leonard McCoy could do just about anything.

"Some one is going to have to check the lift, stopped for a good ten minutes on my way here!"

Spock raised an eyebrow "Six minutes and seventeen seconds Doctor, and the lift will be checked for malfunction as soon as we do the same for the rest of the ship."

**A/N: Ah the second chapter, as confusing as things are they will probably stay that way for a while, the story has to develop. I guess you can expect at least one chapter every weekish, I will post them as soon as I write them (and the lovely cleans them up a lot).**

**~Elliot**


	3. Enter

(A/N: I do not own)

* * *

"The whole ship, what the hell is going on Jim?" McCoy turned face the captain.

"I don't know Bones, that's what we're trying to figure out." The doctor's angry scowl simmered down to a grumpy frown; at least he wasn't the only still in the dark.

He looked over Jim; the tired "I'm going to come over and whine at you" expression was gone, replaced by a sharp, almost excited look in his eyes. Sure, right now he was straight-faced, mouth in a grim line, but if the captain had been anywhere but the bridge he would have been grinning like an idiot. If _Bones_ had been anywhere else he would have groaned; he couldn't believe it, this man was enjoying him self.

Lieutenant Uhura's voice rang out across the bridge. "Captain all deck report: all systems working, although sensors appear to have been reset and are taking awhile to come back on line fully."

"Estimates for how long that will take?"

"They report anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour, Sir."

"I want to know the minute they're back online."

That meant that they were going to be going after whatever had caused them to lose power, Leonard McCoy groaned. Jim looked up at him from his chair smiling (like an idiot).

"What was that Bones?"

"Do you need me here, Jim?" If he could get back to Sickbay maybe he would have time for a drink before the shit hit the fan (medically speaking). Twenty minutes was enough, although he would settle for ten. Hell five was enough for a dozen shots of bourbon.

"You might want to get your emergency med supplies and come back up here. Have respond teams at the ready; the list of injuries should be coming in soon. Nobody reported anything serious in the initial sweep, but I'd rather be careful."

Damn right, this damn crew would just keep going until they collapsed, and then he'd have to take care of the damn lot of them. He nodded at Jim and made his way to the lift. Well, at least he would have a few minutes of quite. Once inside, he called out his destination in an already hoarse voice. The lift acknowledged with movement. The doors squeaked open and McCoy stepped out.

Turning right, he walked down the hallway to the Medical bay's doors. Now what would he need? There probably wouldn't be any real emergency but if he didn't bring everything there would be some idiot calling in with a chest pain which would turn out to be a cardiac tamponade or something.

He walked through the doors, nodding at a passing nurse. On his way in to his office, he picked up the bag he always kept near at hand. He shuffled through it, double-checking everything. Where the hell was the Hyronalin? Today just seemed longer and longer, he thought as he walked out of his office. With the way it was progressing, it would still be quite a while before he finally got his drink.

The Hydrolin was in the wrong freezer. Of course. Back in his office, he did a final check, he tidied up his desk a bit - well he stacked a few papers and crammed the unnecessary stuff in to a drawer. Clean enough. Packing up his case, he left his office, with a light squeak and a compression of air the door of the medical bay opened and Dr. McCoy exited. Walking to the turbo lift on automatic, grunting at the computer to tell it where he needed to go, a final opening of the door and he was back on the bridge. Yep, today was going to be a very long day.

The bridge was back to it's normal hum of activity. People seemed much more relaxed now. He made his way forward to the Captain's chair. Jim looked up.

"What took you so long Bones?"

"Someone forgot to replace some of the hypos after the malfunction in the engines last week. Took awhile to find the right stuff." Jim grimaced, that hadn't been fun and Scotty hadn't been happy. At least nobody had died.

"Captain, I've got a report saying sensors are now fully functional" the lieutenant called out. Bones could tell Jim was thinking something along the lines of _marvelous _although his voice was as firm and commanding as ever.

"Alright. Mr. Sulu I want us to back track to where we were just before the disturbance"

"Aye-Aye Captain." How was the crew not scared shitless right now, and showing it? As a doctor Leonard was used to death but that didn't mean he _wanted_ to deal with it.

"This is the place captain."

"Put us on half power, anything abnormal I want reported right away."

The next few minutes nothing happened, the crew working to record and compare data that would be useful later. Bones was tempted to go back to Sickbay; not much was happening - maybe he'd have time for that drink. A call from across the room brought him back to his senses.

"Captain, I'm picking life forms." It was a young science officer. Jim looked over at him.

"The 'not to great of a danger' ones?"

"No sir…" the officer trailed off "They appear to be humanoid."

"They?" The captain's eyebrows scrunched in a frown.

"There's two of them sir"

Jim's voice shot across to another officer.

"Kren, get me a visual!" He turned back to the first man. "How sure are you?"

There wasn't any doubt in the young officer's voice.

"A hundred percent sir."

Spock had reached the station.

"He's correct, Captain." Spock's voice was final. The crew looked forward to the picture that was now coming in to focus.

Bones' bag dropped by his feet. There was a young man, just barely out of boyhood. Covered in blood, he swung a piece of metal at a swarm of red, shelled creatures. They were clambering over each other, trying to devour him. The officer had said two - where was the other? There! There was another human form, slumped and unmoving. The first seemed to be having trouble. He had staggered back, coughing.

"Jim get them up now!" Leonard McCoy was first and foremost a doctor; he would not let somebody die in front of him with out doing something.

"Captain that would be a breech of regulations, I advise against it."

"You pointy eared son of a bitch, I don't give a damn about your regulations - I'm a doctor not a rule book!" McCoy was furious; that green blooded computer had just crossed a very important line, again.

"Jim!" He almost pleading, he turned back to his captain. Jim locked eyes with him for a second and then spun his chair.

"I want a full security detail to the transporter room, alert medical. Beam them up as soon as security gets there." He stood up, every inch the captain. "Bones lets go; Mr. Sulu, you have the con. Mr. Spock," The Vulcan followed the other two men in to the lift not voicing his obvious dislike of the orders.

By the time the lift doors had opened Security was already disappearing through the transporter doors, all three men followed after them, running. As they reached the doors the transporter was already in action. First a huddled form appeared, the one that had been unconscious. The other man began to appear, Bones started forward, pushing past Jim, then the red shirts.

"Bones wait! Security set up a perimeter."

Both the young men had fully materialized. There was blood all over them - clothes stained rusty red, smeared across mouths, drying thick and stiff in their hair and flaking off their hands. The standing boy's eyes darted, glassy and unfocused, across the room franticly searching - he tried to turn, facing his companion. He seemed to shudder, falling forward.

The doctor shoved past the last of security, leaping to catch the man. A hacking cough passed his already blood stained lips, red splattered the floor. Security began to close around them.

"Out of the way, dammit!" the doctor gritted through his teeth.

By the time Bones had got the man laying down on the transporter pad - on his side to be sure no blood blocked the limited breathing the his patient had - his eyes had already rolled back in to his head, completely dead to the world. A nurse took over care of him. McCoy rushed to the other man, still crumpled. He was on his back; only the slightest pulse and a hellish fever told the doctor that he was alive.

The crowd of security parted, the stretchers had arrived. McCoy tried to lift the boy as gently as possible. He considered himself a fairly strong man - while in no way a Vulcan (thank you _very _much), he wasn't a child either. But this kid was _heavy;_ he could feel his back muscles strain.

"You get over here, help me lift him. Don't grab his neck you idiot!" God, the uselessness of some people was so damn aggravating. Setting the boy down carefully he check over him for any possible problems for the trip to the sick bay. Turning he saw the medical assistances already laying the first one out. All right, at least some people knew standard protocol. It was all this technology - corrupting people in to thinking that since computers could do any thing, what was the point of using your own two hands?

The rush to the Sick bay was uneventful, only a few people to yell at, Bones was in his element and people didn't get in his way when he was in his element. Reaching the doors, the team of medical officers and security swarmed through. Every thing had already been prepared. Well, maybe there were some advantages to the technology of instant communication.

"I want all unessential personnel out of the way or out of the room, now," the doctor practically roared at crowd.

There was a scramble of movement. Normally he'd let the nurses prep any patient but this was different this was an unknown and Leonard wasn't going to sit by. He cut through the boy's shirt. The other one was being examined - as soon he finished here, McCoy would be over there in a flash. With a final snip the fabric parted he had cut through the left sleeve; he always had started with the farthest way - the second one was always harder. Getting a grip on the right side of the collar he began to cut through.

A scar had appeared first, then as the fabric parted the full medically horrifying truth came in to sight. It was an arm, but in no way was it human. The metal seem to be screwed in to the boy's flesh, deep scars were gouged in to the body. For the first time in his medical career Leonard McCoy dropped his tools in front of a patient.

**Yeah and by "up by the weekend" I meant in a few weeks, my bad. But I have excuses (not that it counts for much). One my dog had surgery, he is doing well but still has to wear the cone of shame. Two I'm sick, please note that this will happen a lot, my immune system is made of cardboard water soluble glue.**

**-Elliot**

_**

* * *

And to the American readers: Next week is Ally week, please pledge to help stop anti-LGBT harassment and bullying.**_  
_**For more information please go to www (.) allyweek (.) org **_

**_~E and C_**


	4. Flash

A/N: Own I do not

* * *

Eckheart's finger curled around the trigger, Alfons could almost see it clench. The sharp crack split the air, cutting through Alfons like he was the one in the path of the bullet. But no, it was not meant for him, that would be too merciful. They would kill the one thing more precious than his life, more vital than every blood-laced breath. Maybe, in a later hour, a bullet would end his life too -the way things were going, it seemed likely. His own life meant nothing - it was ending in any case. They wouldn't even need a bullet to kill him.

Edward pitched forward. He was too close to the edge. He seemed to fall with a grace to slow for gravity. Then it was over he crashed in the crates that had been unloaded only hours before. Wooden boxes tumbled around him, shrouding his body in angles and edges. Eckheart stalked away, and the doors clanged closed behind her. No guards rushed to the scene. They were confident that Edward was dead. No, that couldn't happen, it shouldn't happen. Alfons started to call out, but the words were smothered, a massive hand covering his mouth from behind.

"Don't scream. Dorochét and Jean are already getting him."

Roa looked down at the young man, looming over him. The ox of a man removed his hand from Alfons' mouth. Lowering his gaze he saw the blood covering his palm then from the mouth of the boy. His own wide mouth pinched in mirrored pain. Of course they had known. Secretly, silently. Alfons had tried to hide it but the had all heard the muffled coughing and seen the pale clammy skin.

"For how long?" His normally gruff voice turned to gravel.

"Just over half a year" Alfons smiled grimly "No 'why didn't you tell us, Alfons'?"

"I know well enough."

Alfonse looked away.

The hunched figures of the two men shuffled into sight, with a third smaller one slung limp between them. At a nod from Roa they clambered up on the platform and gently settled the boy in to the first seat. Nobody spoke. Nobody had too. It seemed rehearsed and wooden. Alfons' brain was full of broken cogs. Someone had closed Edward's eyes. His face was deathly white, blood blossomed from his chest seeping through the fabric, making it stiff and dark, so much blood, he couldn't possibly be…

Roa clapped him on the shoulder with the bloody hand and pushed him toward the rocket. "Get in."

"What? No! I can't -"

Taking Alfons' narrow chin in his huge hands, Roa forced the boy to meet his eyes, through a sheen of hysterical tears. "Why not?"

Alfons was shivering. Why should he? Ed was dead. Nothing mattered.

He'd spoken aloud. "Ed's not dead."

"Not...dead?" Alfons looked up with unfocused eyes, his world reeling off its axis and back on.

"Naw. He's tougher than that. Took the bullet in his shoulder."

"Really?"

"See for yourself." Roa pulled him around the nose of the rocket to stand beside the little passenger pit. Ed's body was slumped over the controls. He _looked_ dead, skin pasty pale, the brown of his jacket stained a deeper lurid carmine.

"Not dead?" he repeated, voice sounding hollow and distant to his own ears.

"Hardly. Here." Roa took his hand and held it out in front of Ed's face. Sure enough, Alfons could feel the faintest warmth and tingle on his palm as Ed breathed shallowly.

"Are you going to send him home?" Alfons' voice trembled.

"Yeah. And you're going with him."

"Me? But I can't. Not to his world!"

"Hey, someone needs to look after him!"

Hope fluttered under his ribcage, but almost instantly became the urge to cough, and Alfons turned away, hacking. "I'm sick," he whispered, into his blood-splattered hand. "I'm dying. I can't look after him."

Roa rocked on his heels and looked upward.

"Him and his blasted stories. But I'm not drunk, and this goddamned glowing hole isn't a dream, and maybe, maybe mind you! Maybe there is such a thing as the magic he spoke of. It might cure you."

Still Alfons hesitated.

Roa sighed. "Look at it this way. You're going to die." Alfons didn't even flinch. "Might as well die on a gamble as on a fold. Am I right?" his gaze softened. "We've all seen how you look at him. Don't pretend you could live without him. Don't pretend you could let him go."

Alfons took a shaky breath. "Ok. Ok you're right."

"That's my boy. Get in." Roa's strong arms were under his, practically lifting his weak, shivering form into the cockpit, cramming his limbs in beside Edwards. Edward made a little noise and shifted some. Al immediately leaned in to rub his back and murmur soothing words in German, and the blond boy stilled again.

Looking out at the man, Alfons found his throat choked with something that wasn't blood or pain for once.

"Roa... I... thank you."

Roa wiped a hand suspiciously across his eyes and nodded. "Don't mention it kid. Just make it worth it, and start a new life with Ed. for the rest of us." His hand came to rest on the launch lever "Don't worry Alfons Hiedrich, we won't let history forget you. I wish you luck."

"Say goodbye… to everybody for me"

The large man smiled, cheeks glistening with tears. "Godspeed" he whispered pulling back on the lever.

There was a roar like thunder in a bottle, and Alfons found himself pressed forcefully back in his seat with Ed's weight against him the only reassurance as the world exploded in color and light.

* * *

**A/N: It's short it's late and I have no excuses besides the fact that I've been channeling Bones making flashbacks rather difficult. You can thank Ms. C for the majority of this chapter she wrote a lot of it and as always edited it. If you like the change, have questions about the names I completely guessed or at the chapter in general at let us know, we are only the writers in this venture. If you have complaints we will accept them if they are in limerick form only  
-Elliot **


	5. Blinding, Dark

_A/N: I'm so sorry it's been so long - I know apologies like this don't make you feel any less annoyed, but I really am very sorry - Elliot has been finished with this for a couple of weeks now. I just hadn't realized it was finished so I never beta'd it. If it helps any, there is another chapter already written, and its much longer, now it's just up to me to beta. Should be up by Sunday at the latest. Enjoy! _

Blinding, roaring, searing, consuming his senses, blocking any rational thought. Ed just wanted it to all stop, no more light, no more pain, and most of all, no more noise. Seriously what the hell was that? Edward opened his eyes, and promptly shut them again. In a blinding, roaring, searing situation it's best to remember the blinding bit of the equation. The light pulsed eerily. Where was all this chaos coming from? He took a deep breath and analyzed his position.

He was sitting.

Well that was a start.

He tried to shift forward against the force keeping him there, pain lanced through his shoulder. The crack of a gunshot came back to him. Right, okay so far he had been shot and was now sitting in a rather cramped space, knees pressed against something hard. The roar, it sounded familiar. Engine. That was it. If he was sitting, being forced down by some force like a huge weight, and the noise he'd heard it before. The rocket. Yes, then he must be in the rocket. There, logic. Only question was, why the fuck was he on a rocket? A rocket that was going somewhere _very, very _fast.

He couldn't move his left arm; it was too painful to even twitch his fingers. Instead he brought up his right arm; the pressure plates weren't nearly as sensitive as good old automail but he could get general shapes from it. He ran the fingers across what ever was holding were him back besides sheer force of acceleration. Hands? Who?

"Edward?" The voice was barely heard over the roar of the rocket.

"Alfons, is that you?" He hadn't the strength to do more than croak, but the hands tightened in understanding.

The light was dimming, no longer pushing against his eyelids; trying to force it's way in. He squinted ready to snap them shut again if need be. It was still painfully bright but no longer burning.

And they weren't moving, or at least not at any speed that he could see. But that was impossible; they shouldn't feel the force of acceleration pushing them back. The light, so brightly colored it was almost white, was twisting in to patterns and meandering by. At the rate they felt they were going it should have been nothing but a blur. Instead the Rocket seemed to be going full speed down a kaleidoscope filled with molasses. No wind rushed through their hair only the slightest breath of air seemed to tickle their faces.

Then Edward saw it. As coldly terrifying as his encounters before, a pain struck him. The kind of pain that goes deeper than a simple cut should. The deadening of any semblance of the feeling of being healthy and unhurt. Fear griped him threatening to snap him in half and leave broken pieces behind. The gate loomed, sliding closer and closer as the rocket surged forward.

And then.

Then there were footsteps. Quite final, uneven. Walking besides the rocket, easily keeping pace and treading ether, came the ghostly figure of Truth. A smile split it's face it turned to look Ed. He felt Alfons shudder with a gasp of the fear he should have felt. He was shaking, it was too much, his mind felt brittle. But, if he was going to shatter like glass he might as well stab some one while he was at it. He raised a single shaking finger.

Fuck you, you son of a - you... child of a cosmic being... or ... whatever. I'm leaving. Ed couldn't get the words out but he made sure the Truth got the point from the body language. If it was possible the preternatural smile got even wider.

They were at the gate then, it was opening, blackness pouring, creeping out, inhuman hands, icy fingers, grabbing them, clawing them dragging them in. Wind hit them, from no earthly source, screaming around them and through them, stealing their breath, and behind them the light of the world dwindled as the gate slid shut, leaving them engulfed in shades of darkness.

Flashing images forcing their way into both of their heads. Impossibly. One after another, knowledge became too much for times dams. It broke down the barriers cramming its way in. Edward heard Alfons scream. Wrenching his way up from his seat, ignoring the pain that was burning a fire from within him, he turned to face Alfons, every movement an agonizing struggle against the wind and weight and _darkness_. Eyes squinting against the wind, he made out the form of his companion. He had his hands digging in to his scalp, eyes wide open, his open mouth now a silent howl of agony. Ed flung his automail arm around Alfons' head, clutching the other boy to him and screaming defiance at the darkness. "Not him not him not him!" Clenching his eyes shut did not good as he focused every scrap of focus in his mind on protecting Alfons' mind, in taking the excruciating weight of the knowledge of eternity on himself, blocking the river of information that was threatening to drown the both of them. Pain lanced through his head, twice anything he had felt before.

Things were moving in dancing through his head that's seemed impossible, that were impossible. Creatures he had never even imagined tramped their footprints onto his fragile skull. Worlds, technology that shouldn't have existed, sounds, words, voices all clamoring together. Faces and feelings raged, waging battles through his brain that left him pummeled and in pain. Edward felt like his head would split apart, like surely he was dying, too much was being crammed in to his head, how could anyone survive the knowledge of the universe twice over crashing through their mortal body.

And then it was gone, and light burst across his vision, blessed, silent, drifting light, with nothing, no thoughts, no voices, no _pain_. It was peaceful and perfect and white. Well, maybe tinted just a little red.


	6. Ticking

The clattering of the tool on the floor attracted the attention of a nurse.

"Is there something wrong doctor?"

"No." _Well yes, shit_, he thought.

"Please contact both the captain and first officer and ask them to report to sick bay as soon as things are under control," he managed to grit out. As a rule, Jim didn't enter the sick bay when he wasn't needed.

When he picked up the cutting tool, his hands were steady; they were always steady. He cut the remaining side of the sleeve and lifted it off the young man's arm. There were three obvious wounds, blood soaked bandages, torn strips of fabric, had been hurriedly applied. The doctor used the tricorder to scan for any thing his eyes would miss.

There was shrapnel in the left shoulder; metal, it would be easy to remove. He had undoubtedly lost a lot of blood, and was developing a burning fever because of it. A slight concussion, and that was about it; _Easy enough to patch up, if there aren't any more surprises. Could do with a few more nutrients in his blood though_, McCoy thought.

A more senior assistant came over.

"Preparations have been completed with the other boy, readings indicate that it is a male human, deficient in almost all vitamins, physically exhausted, and appearing to have a upper respiratory infection, advanced, nothing familiar, the tests should be done in about two minutes and we will know what it is"

"Good. Let me know the second you've got it." He nodded at another man to help him

He needed to focus on the problem at hand, and that wasn't the arm.

Holding out his hand, someone passed the hypo to him and he pressed it in to the young man's neck. Antibiotics first, to kill anything he might have picked up. Somehow the hiss of the needle was comforting; he was doing a job he knew. The bandages had to come off before anything else; the damage with the shrapnel would take the longest so he would do that one last.

McCoy was nothing if not an efficient worker. In constant smooth motion he removed the fabric over the first two target spots. It wasn't that they were bad they just _looked_ bad. Spraying antiseptic over the wounds and letting it soak in for a few seconds to be sure. Next came the liquid healer, again a quick spray over the damaged areas and let it sit. It would be healed in a matter of minutes now.

Peeling away the last section of waded cloth the doctor looked at the wound. Red, angry, and very round, a stab wound maybe? No the edges wouldn't be like that. He held out his hand; the assistant knew what was needed. This time, something for the pain. _PSSSST. _Then antiseptic again, reaching out he found the assistant already holding out the magnetized pincers and base. Not replying McCoy laid down the metal frame, it would ensure no fragments were left behind and give him a picture of the shrapnel at the same time. The piece was cylindrical rounded at the end farther in. It couldn't possibly be what he'd thought it was; he'd only seen them in textbooks.

With a gliding motion the removed the piece of metal and placed it on the waiting tray.

"Doctor the results of the test are finished, but I think something might be wrong with them"

"How so?"

"They're near impossible." Bones didn't like the word impossible, not in his Sickbay, not in connection to a patient. It could only mean trouble. "The upper respiratory infection we found in the scan showed up as pulmonary tuberculosis."

"Pulmonary tuberculosis?" That wasn't near impossible that was impossible. All strains were totally wiped out and had been for hundreds of years. Even if it had survived it would have mutated at least. Had it been kept as a weapon? he wondered. Surely not - it only had an effect on human kind. It should have been protected against with all vaccinations that allowed space travel. Why then did the scanners pick it up - he trusted his equipment._ What the hell is going on?_

"Dr. McCoy, what do you want us to do?"

"Keep a sample of the PT and then cure the kid. I'm sure the computer has got the code for the antibiotics needed, get them and then give me the numbers. If they can be improved then do it. Record all the changes and get someone else to check for you, I don't want any screw ups."

Turning back to kid he was working on, he did one last scan to make sure nothing was left behind in the wound. The doors to the medical bay squeaked open, and Jim stepped through followed by Spock.

He nodded at the assistant. "Patch this one up and then I want tests on him too, check for everything and give both of them the basic vaccinations, make sure it doesn't react with the antibiotic on the PT one though." The man left going to get materials; Dr. McCoy called over a nurse.

"Set him up with a drip to be sure and keep close tabs on him. If anything changes alert me."

Bones pulled off his gloves; and made his way over to the captain and first officer. In his hands he held a dish, rolling around in it was the piece of metal removed from the boy's shoulder. He barely stopped in front of them

"My office." Both of the other men responded raised eyebrows. McCoy turned and started stalking to his work place he didn't look back. "Any time gentlemen." he gritted out.

* * *

Jim shrugged his shoulders taking a few quick strides forward to catch up with Bones. Damn that man was fast when he was mad, which was most of the time, his calves were probably made of steel. Thoughts of manly legs aside, Jim was worried. If the two that were brought in weren't on their way to being healthy and safe the good doctor would still be working on them. Even the Sickbay wasn't that bad, mainly because he wasn't the current emergency, he wasn't being poked with any thing and Bones practically lived here. Even though he was all sorts of grumpy most of the time, Leonard McCoy was still his best friend. And something was bothering him and that was bothering Jim.

Weaving in and out of the thinning personnel, the group made it's way to the office.

"So Bones, what have you got for us?"

Eyebrows furrowed deep and looming, Bones lifted up the dish he had been holding to show them."Do you have any idea what this is?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. Man, Jim had never noticed it but he was surrounded by a lot of people with really good control over their facial muscles. Spock especially, his eyebrows expressed more emotion than a thesaurus could.

"It would appear to be a bullet, circa 19th possibly 20th century"

Jim's eyes snapped to the small piece of metal. He was familiar enough with his own facial muscles enough to hold back the look that he knew Bones could read and be concerned about. Yes he knew what a bullet was, he had know what a bullet was since he was 12, his left shoulder in particular remember it well, he preferred not to.

"And do you want to know what else I found, besides the entirety of the shot one's arm and leg." Bones paused to breath. "Pulmonary tuberculosis. The other damn kid has consumption, advanced, no decent medical treatment to speak of; he's had it bad for at least half a year maybe more. Do you have any idea what that means?"

Spock had opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, but he was cut off by the good doctor. Jim on the other hand knew any questions mid-rant were rhetorical.

"That means that a disease that has been nonexistent for the past few hundred years has found it's was into space. The only reason it's not a danger is because we've got the exact cure, he'll be as healthy as one could expect in about two hours, he might even wake up in four."

"Do you have a hypothesis on these young men Doctor?" Spock wanted either answers or enough information to make his own, Jim couldn't tell.

"Yeah I've got one and I don't like it." Well this could either be incredibly interesting or entirely shit, one of the two. "I only pulled you two in here because I don't know how the rest of the crew is going to feel about it." Both Jim and Spock knew what was coming.

"These two kids are from our earth but they are definitely not from our time."

Still two sets of eyebrows went up. This was even better than interesting, quite possibly this was _fascinating_. Spock opened his mouth, but it wasn't the expected word. "Before, you mentioned "an arm and a leg." Can you elaborate doctor?"

"No, but can sure as hell show you. Follow me" He turned to Jim. "I'm assuming no time travel talk until we've got more information."

Jim nodded "Yeah but the moment we do know I'll give the announcement. I don't like keeping the crew in the dark." Stepping out of the doctor's way he held up a arm.

"Lead the way Bones."

Anybody who has problems with the medical procedures in this feel free to shoot me, I'll just patch my self up with my space gear and such. I apologize for the poorly placed Taraus IV angst (if you don't know what that is shame on you, go look it up) it's probably going to show up later too. If you have any problems with that please tell me nicely, and if you don't want to do that I'm still waiting for a limerick.

-Elliot

A/N: And important message of importance. This story was at first going to be a bit of a romance, due to the fact that I am indeed the definition of awkward that's not happening. It's probably going to be toned down a lot, like to the point of nothing. Ms. C might write some slashy stuff later, when she's done fighting the monsters of homework and other time consuming creatures. These will be posted in a different story as kind of a side thing with just a few scenes here and there.


	7. Wake

**HOLY GUACAMOLE, IT'S A NEW CHAPTER! Who saw this coming? Not me. But Elliot pulled through again, proving that she is indeed DEEPLY AWESOME and HERE IT IS. There will, in fact, be another chapter, in hopefully not too long. Elliot says the idea for it is pretty fully formed, which means it should actually get done! That said, WE LOVE YOU ALL and it's your support and feedback that keeps Elliot writing. YOU ARE ALL SO INCREDIBLE, KEEP UP THE AWESOME. **

Bones led the two over to where the kid lay. By this time only a nurse, Franz was her name was busy moving about and checking the machines and the restraints that security had insisted on putting both boys in. It wasn't as if they we going anywhere. Unlike some of the less mature crew members he was forced to deal with, the doctor trusted her with patient confidentiality. Apparently, these days cadets were taught to gossip instead of following protocol. Deep in space there wasn't much to talk about, but if one more damn rumor got out about who caught the latest embarrassing STD during the the last shore leave, there would be consequences.

Turning to Jim and the Vulcan, Bones continued frowning, "Prosthetics with full mobility were invented in the late 21st century. They were made of light carbon fiber and plastics, controlled electronically. Now, caught early enough, after amputation we can do a nearly flawless transplant or prosthetic limb, and after a few months of rehab the limb is barely noticeable. Nothing resembling the metal contraption that the boy has. Do either of you have a better explanation for a kid-" he lifted up the blanket, "-with prosthetic technology completely different from anything the medical community has ever developed? The craftsmanship looks like it's been hammered out on an anvil. Besides, the way it's attached is beyond barbaric- the metal is physically bolted into the bone at the shoulder and just above the left knee."

"Calm down Bones" Jim had bent over and was examining the port. "It's not that bad. The skin looks fully healed - its probably not painful - and if it was in better condition I'm sure it'd be fully functional."

Spock nodded "Yes doctor, I fail to see the issue. It is indeed primitive but that is no reason to become agitated."

"Agitated! You think this is agitated?" Leonard McCoy was livid. "Those limbs are connected directly to the nerves. The act of replacing a damaged limb let alone installing the port in the first place would be enough to make a man faint. You can't just put the kid under either; from what I can tell, he has to be conscious for the nervous signals to connect properly."

The pointy eared bastard obviously didn't even have anything close to a heart. "Can you remove it?"

"Why in the hell would I want to do that?"

"If we do have an enemy in front of us then I assume the lost of two of his limbs would slow him down a great deal."

"And if he's just some kid?" Bones could be open to options but if it was Spock suggesting them then he wouldn't listen with out a fight.

Jim, sensing a full blown argument in the making, stepped in. "Then we have to do our best to understand and fix it for him"

"...fine." Bones couldn't argue with that, unfortunately. And there was no way he could fix the arm and leg on his own, which normally wouldn't be a problem as long as...

"Great. Spock you can help him, and maybe Scotty. He loves this sort of thing" Jim clapped him on the shoulder "You two will have to wait though the engine checks are going to take a few more hours"

Spock nodded and turned to leave with the captain. "Very well. I will continue gathering data on the energy spikes we experienced previously."

Bones watched them leave. Damn it, he could work with Mr. Scot but with the Vulcan...that was asking too much. Maybe he'd have that drink now, he deserved it. Neither of his patients would be awake for at least a few hours, he had time.

* * *

The thing about thinking you're going to die is when you do it does not surprise you. You find that all the excitement that you had experienced up to the point of your imminent demise was simply gone. There is nothing to worry about and nothing to do but think, mind sluggish and calm.

This was where Alfons found himself. Not that he knew where he was, but it wasn't a bad place though and he could just lie there with his thoughts. He had never been particularly religious, although in moments of stress he would sometimes revert to the church going days of his childhood, praying to a god he lost faith in the day his mother died. It would be nice to see her again, and if this was heaven then maybe he could.

If this was heaven.

Even if it wasn't, then at least it wasn't so bad. For once, nothing hurt. He could breathe deeply, easily, and his body was no longer wracked with the fever chills and aches that had plagued him for so long. There was nothing pounding in his head, or constricting his chest. Actually, he felt pretty good. A little floaty perhaps, but that was kind of nice. He couldn't remember the last time he was even remotely close to feeling this healthy. Heaven or at least something resembling heaven seemed like a logical explanation. Edward would probably laugh at him, for laying here contemplating something so unscientific. Edward was... He was...

Alfons' mind snapped in to place. Memories flooded back to him in an alarming kaleidoscope. The gunshot, the rocket, Edward screaming and throwing himself between Alfons and a darkness Alfons didn't understand. The crash, fire and pain, those creatures, that noise, slipping out of consciousness. Where was Ed? Where was he?

Squinting his eyes against the lights he tried to sit up, but felt a pressure increase on his chest. For one moment of panic he was afraid the chest pains had returned, but no - that wasn't it: something was holding him down. He struggled, heart racing, trying to break free. Looking down he saw there were restraints on his arms and legs, holding him to a bed. There was a beeping above him he craned his neck around trying to see. Lights were flashing, bright and mechanical, something was wrong he had to get to Edward now! Who had put him here? What was going on?

* * *

There had been paperwork, reports and medical studies to go through. He had had to check and double check supplies and file another report on his actions. Bones had just sat down for the drink he'd wanted before this whole damn ordeal started. With a sigh of relief, he reached for the drawer that had the bottle. There weren't any glasses in his office, but that was alright, he could do with out them.

The bio alert buzzed and the light flashed twice. Leonard swore. One of the patients was in distress, nothing serious, it probably meant one of the boys was awake. The doctor raced out to see the one with all four limbs pulling at the restraints. When their eyes met, Bones recognized the expression on the boy's face - the fear and confusion of the injured returning to consciousness, eyes panicky and skin pale, but when he spoke, he sounded angry, though the words were unintelligible. Maybe it wasn't fear for himself, it was fear for the other one.

"Was willst du von mir! Was hast du mit meinem Freund gemacht!"

Bones stopped, and frowned. That wasn't Standard, but it was familiar, from grade school language classes. They'd had a year of Spanish, a year of Chinese, and a year of "language history", mostly French and German, a little Latin. There was no way Bones could communicate with the kid in that raspy gibberish, but he sure as hell recognized the guttural sound of German. Slapping a hand against the wall communicator, he hailed the bridge.

"McCoy to Captain Kirk"

"What's up Bones?"

"How many earth languages does Uhura speak?"

"All of them, probably, why?"

"Because one of the damn kids woke up and I sure as hell don't speak German."

"Are you sure it's German?"

"Yes, I'm sure it's German, now just get the hell down here."

"Got it. Kirk out."

**FEEDBACK IS LOVE **


	8. Speaking

_A/N:Own not I do_

_From now on German will be in Italics or actually German and English will be normal._

Alfons was scared. His head hurt and he had no idea where he was or what was going on. This man was probably the one who had tied him up in this strange place. So, yes, Alfons was scared, but he wasn't about to let the man in blue know.

"_What do you want from me? What have you done with my friend?"_

The man stopped and look confused. Panic set deeper into Alfons' chest. Did he not know where Edward was? Had they become separated some how? He didn't know where _here_ was let alone how he had gotten here. Edward could be anywhere.

Walking over to the wall the man seemed to press a button. What was he-

The man spoke in a rough voice.

"McCoy to Captain Kirk"

The voice seemed to come from the wall like a sort of telephone.

"What's up Bones?"

More importantly than the wall telephone (although Alfons did want to know how it worked, the man in blue hadn't even needed to dial a number, was there only one line?) the man was speaking something like English. Alfons had been studying English and French for more then a few years. He wasn't going to let his education be stopped by some language barrier. It had always been a dream to meet the intellectual giants of the scientific world. Hadfield, Kipping, Hayes and Hertz, the Curies as well, then there was Joseph John Thomson and Aston. Just talking to them for a few hours, there was so much he could learn. He wasn't completely fluent but it was enough to get by on.

There was something strange about the English the man was using. Like it wasn't quite the same language. He listened to the man talking, trying to figure out what was so different about it. More similar to German somehow? He was understanding about half of what was said - his English wasn't that good. It was as if his brain had learned more then he had studied. Disconcerting for sure; he couldn't shake the feeling that it was happening in his head, not because of any Germanness of the language. In fact, it sounded different from any dialect he had ever heard.

"Got it. Kirk out"

It seemed the conversation was over. The man in blue turned towards him. He put his hands in a peaceful gesture.

"Just calm down kid, I'm not here to hurt you."

* * *

Man did Bones want that drink right about now, and he knew it would be a long time yet before he got it as well. The kid looked like he was about to have a heart attack, he had fallen silent, and upsettingly still during the brief conversation Bones had had with the bridge. He was pale and shakey enough to make Leonard's doctor senses tingle.

"Somebody's gonna be here soon that can understand you."

Even if the kid couldn't understand him there was something about comforting tones that was almost universal. Despite what some of the crew said about him, Bones wasn't a cold hearted bastard. They were confusing him with Spock. No Leonard McCoy had a child, he new a thing or two about comforting frightened kids.

"I kan speak zome..."

Bones raised his eyebrows, so the kid could understand him. Great, now he had called down a circus down for nothing. The kid seemed to have a bit of trouble getting the words out.

"I speak zome Englisch"

Fantastic.

"I'm Doctor Leonard McCoy, you are aboard the USS Enterprise."

Protocol: half the time Bones hated it, half the time he shuddered to think what the ship would be with out it. One of his (better) professors at Starfleet had told him once, "Rules and regulation are all that stand for law out there in deep space. If you break them you run the risk of losing everything." He'd seen the logic behind those words, but that didn't mean he didn't push the boundaries a bit. Your own rules and regulation are just as necessary in space.

"Can you tell me your name?"

The kid still looked untrusting. His eyes were narrowed and he held his body in as much of a defensive posture as possible while he had restraints on his arms and legs. No wonder he wasn't trusting.

"Alfons"

First name only huh, fair enough. If Leonard had been in the same situation they probably only would have gotten a middle finger. Not that flipping the bird had quite the same effect with alien cultures, but it made him feel better. It looked like the kid was calming down a bit; the shaking had stopped at least.

"Vhere ist my friend?"

Before Bones could answer the doors to the med bay slid open with a squeak. The kid's head jerked towards it. Yep the circus was here, no less then five people walked through the door. Jim strutting in front followed by the hobgoblin, lieutenant Uhura, and two security. Bones hurried across the room, stopping Jim with a hand on his chest, and spoke in a voice low enough that Alfons couldn't hear.

"Are you trying to scare the kid to death Jim? The restraints are bad enough."

"Can't be too careful."

"Look at him, he's just a kid. All the scans came back human as well! I don't want two idiots with blasters in here unless they're needed, which right now they are not. He's hardly in any shape to do much damage."

Jim frowned."You sure Bones?"

"Positive. You are going to get much out of him, either, if he thinks you're a threat. He's gonna close up like a clam. Already jumpy."

"Alright Bones, I trust you. Farren, Sprats, you two wait outside."

Bones could tell he was in captain mode; possibilities, pros, and cons were probably going through Jim's head at warp speed. Potential dangers lining up side by side with potential benefits. The two security saluted and left, although, Bones noticed that then would be wait just outside the door. He could work with that. Turning back to Jim he nodded his thanks.

"Turns out the kid can speak English."

Uhura spoke up. "Do you still need me captain?"

"If you wouldn't mind lieutenant, he'd probably feel more comfortable."

"How is his condition Doctor?" Spock, asking after the kid's condition? Coming form Spock that was almost the equivalent of a bunch of flowers and a get well card.

" Haven't had time to check, I just found out he could understand me."

Jim stepped back. "Alright Bones, me and Spock will give you some room."

* * *

The doctor came forward. Following him was a young black women in red. Alfons shrank back slightly. He felt little trust towards the doctor; he had wanted to talk with the others without Alfons hearing what they said, and that did not inspire trust. But the woman smiled at him, and it was a kind smile. When she spoke her German surprised him.

"_Hello, my name is Nyota. I will be translating for Doctor McCoy to make things easier for you. You don't need to worry you are safe here."_

Alfons had never understood the growing hatred toward the Afrodeutsche*. Alfons had often spent a afternoon practicing his French with a dark skinned woman by the name of Madelon. The lady before him reminded him a bit of her, warm and with a voice like fire. He thought she was probably very pretty too, if Alfons had appreciated women in such a way.

"_Where am I?" _Alfons asked._ "What is the '_Enterprise'_?"_

"_It is the ship we are on."_

"_Ship? Are we at sea?" _Alfons was confused. It didn't feel like they were on a ship. The woman, Nyota, seemed confused as well. She frowned faintly.

"_No it is a starship," _She must have seen his bafflement._ "In space."_

That didn't make any sense. How could they be in space? It wasn't even close to possible.

"_How could that be? We don't have the technology. Why are you lying?"_

He had always kept up to date on scientific advancements, following the best in the field and aiming to be one himself. There was nothing but theories, wild, unsupportable ones at that. Space travel was the material of speculative fiction and madmen. Wonderful theories yes, but impossible ones.

Now the woman was really frowning, not angry but confused. "_We sent the first man into space in the twentieth century, we've had the technology for hundreds of years."_

Alfons felt himself go cold to the tips of his fingers, felt the blood drain from his cheeks to his racing heart. He barely hear Nyota as she continued speaking, peering at him with concern. "_What year did you think it is?"_

It couldn't be, he couldn't believe it, they were lying somehow, trying to trick him. Opening his mouth, he swallowed twice, dryly, and when he spoke it was almost a squeak. "_1923"_

Those numbers suddenly seemed very small. All of the strangeness around him, the bright lights and metal, the odd language, could it be... could it be that...

"_The stardate is 5682.8**" _Alfons thought he made some kind of noise, and Noyota looked at him in some alarm._ "Are you alright?_

* * *

*Forgive me as I butcher history but this means literally Afro-German and is what I found from the limited research I did on black Germans. If you know more please let me know, everything is interesting.

**This date is something like 2328 which is like a few hundred years off, I didn't do my research properly in the first chapter and I apologize.

**Annnnnnd we're back! Kind of. Honestly I've got no excuse besides real life. I was able to get this out because of a break in school and a bit of rest from a very stressful life. Chapters are going to be coming very slow as both me and Ms. C have a lot of stuff to do. And for those talking about how this is the only FMA/ST2009 crossover, feel free to change that. Thats one of the reasons I started writing this in the first place, so other people would join in. With two fandoms as epic as these the possibilities are endless. **

** Hope all of you are well**

**~E**


End file.
